


The Convention - A Snack (Day 12: Eating ice cream)

by drownedinblissfulconfusion (tundraeternal)



Series: The Convention [12]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Conventions, Food Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tundraeternal/pseuds/drownedinblissfulconfusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30-Day OTP Challenge</p>
<p>A succession of Cockles ficlets, set at a fictional convention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Convention - A Snack (Day 12: Eating ice cream)

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not personally know any of the people I'm writing about. As far as I'm concerned, these are fictional characters in some alternate universe, which exists someplace between our own and the French Drop universe, who happen to bear superficial resemblance to our boys (and girls). Their conversations, personalities, and innermost thoughts are generally extrapolated from plausible reality, occasionally made up from whole cloth.

“You want a bite?” Misha asks as he swirls his tongue around the tower of soft-serve that’s in danger of dripping down his hand.

“Of the ice cream, or of you?” Jensen smirks.

Misha waggles his tongue in response. 

“You know you look completely pornographic when you do that, right?” Jensen probably shouldn’t find it as endearing as he does. 

“Oh, do you have something against pornography?” Misha asks, all wide blue innocent eyes. “Because if you do, you probably haven’t been watching the right kind. I do have a select few titles I could introduce you to-” he cuts off as Jensen dips his head and licks up the drip that’s just run over the edge of the cone and onto Misha’s fingers. “Actually, you know what, maybe we should skip the watching and make our own.” He drags the pad of his thumb down Jensen’s lower lip, and Jensen catches it with his tongue. 

Misha’s eyes darken and he swipes some of the melting ice cream onto his first two fingers. Jensen takes hold of Misha’s hand to steady it, and sucks the dripping fingers into his mouth. Sucking gently, he presses his tongue against the webbing between Misha’s fingers and licks the sensitive skin. Misha keens, half with pleasure and half with the memory of the same sensation on other parts of his anatomy. 

“Now who’s being pornographic?” he mumbles. 

Jensen finishes cleaning the ice cream from Misha’s hand, and grins. “You love it.”

“Fuck, yes. I wish I could bottle you and sell you as an aphrodisiac. I’d make a fortune.”

“I think you mean _we’d_ make a fortune.” Jensen takes a bite of the ice cream and kisses Misha, cold and sweet running between their mouths, dribbling down their chins. They kiss and lick, sloppy, trying to catch it all. 

Jensen pauses when he feels Misha’s hands on his ass. “Mish? I think you dropped your ice cream.”

“Fuck the ice cream.”

“Yeah we can definitely do that, too.”


End file.
